


Addiction

by Natasi (SwordDraconis113)



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: Angry Sex, Autistic Lauren, F/F, Female Ejaculation, Sex Addiction, light BDSM elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 01:24:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3362576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwordDraconis113/pseuds/Natasi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bo made her thoughts singular. Evony made them hers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Addiction

**Author's Note:**

> This began as a need to write angry sex, which also became a need to explore the idea of Lauren's autism.

Lauren _noticed_.

In the height of brain activity, where there was too much information, too much sensation around her – the material of clothing against skin, denim that rubbed and chafed, with leather over her left ankle where cotton socks didn’t quite block skin from shoe and the powder of gloves left on her fingers – her mind would systematically shut down what became classified as unimportant and focus on what was.

Statically, she surmised that her brain was capable of segregating what _was_ immediate (science, patients, hazards) from what wasn’t (housework, people, conversation) with minor failure, prioritizing what she felt was appropriate. If she was to give it an allusion, she would akin to flagging files with priority, leaving the rest to be read at a later date or discarded.

Bo, more often than not, became second to science. Her mind always focusing on a case, work or a project when she conversed with her lover. Though, with every statistic, there were outliers, and Bo’s gift of flushing her body with arousal gave Lauren the ability to drunkly disperse all thoughts and focus only on Bo. Singular to the touch her succubus gave.

And like an addiction, she grew hungry for the feeling, desperate to feel it again and again.

The first time she met her, she remembered the touch, the shudder that spilled from a succubus’ fingertips into her own. _Come with me_ , whispered like a promise until Lauren forgot how the lab coat dragged against her skin, and the hair bushing her cheek, or the the weight in her pockets or…

There’d only been Bo.

Her mind was quiet, and for the first time, she understood how sweet the feeling was. Wondering if that was what it would have been like to be born like her brother, like the students and co-workers she moved around. How _quiet_ and wonderful it felt to have her thoughts come to one point and moment; the attention so brightly controlled to a singular focus.

But the moments didn’t last, and even when she kissed Bo, she’d taste salt and lubricant, feeling the individual strands of pubic hair and the sweat trickling down her spine as the sheets crumpled beneath her thighs and fingers shifted on her hip with the draft coming through the fallen down walls. Even then, even the height of sensation, her mind would tick, shutting off the thought of purple sheets and who else had been on them before her and if Bo had washed them with hypo allergic detergent or just used the first box she found at the store.

Eventually, always, it would turn to work, turn to experiments or a case she was working on – and more often than she cared to admit, she’d stop in the middle of sex to strip away and stumble with a breakthrough, forgetting that just moments before that one or both of them had been near climax.

Evony was different.

The thoughts were multiple, but singular in the origin.

And where her addiction to Bo was hungry, Evony made her ravenous.

Nails scratching down her back, white crescents left between and under shoulder blades, there was red smudged over and around lips shaped in a cry. Eyes open, pupil dilation – signally arousal – wetness against her fingers, a gasp that sounded unalike her previous sound (closer, closer still). A laugh that came and teeth and…and…

Lauren felt her back in the wall, eyes cast open from the surprise. She didn’t remember the wall, didn’t remember fingers burying in her pants, pushing against denim and cotton.

Evony kissed her again, one hand clasped over her jaw to force the situation into a power play. “Pay attention,” whispered in her ear. Lauren revered in the moment, bucking against the hand. She could feel frustration, like a ribcage becoming small as it pressed over her lungs and heart.

Twisting out of the grasp, she took Evony’s head in her own and tugged her closer. Her teeth snagging against the bottom lip. She bit down, tearing at flesh to feel the fingers diver deeper, the thumb pushing against her clit dragging against her nerves to elicit pain in a roll of pleasure that tugged and burst in her chest.

Excitement, she realized momentarily. She was feeling excitement.

A hand grabbed her neck, firmly pushing her away and Evony laughed. Lauren watched a pink tongue slip over red to taste the damage done.

Slowly, the Morrigan curled inside of her, moving closer again and holding her head up so Lauren could no longer see, but only feel as the head bowed over her shoulder.

There was nothing except fingers adjusting insider of her, only two inches deep, before a warm breath spilled against her skin. She felt teeth, wet from blood, snap over the flesh between shoulder and neck as a thumb stroked over her clit and Lauren cried out, aware only of waves of pain and pleasure both as she tensed around Evony’s fingers as hard as Evony bit down on her.

Her shoulders spasmed and relaxed in uncoiled relief, but something else had to give, and somewhere, in the far treacherous of her mind, she was aware of the stroking inside of her.

She took a breath, eyes wide open and aware of everything (her shirt was undone, bra ripped over her breasts, her hand was clutched on Evony’s thigh, where she’d snapped the garter belt underneath the black dressed, and scrunched in her hair hard enough she had to be in equal pain – there was bruises on her skin already and scratches down her back and thighs and Lauren could feel _everything_ ) before she came, spasming around fingers, her hips jerking and her back arching against warmth as the final wave inside of her hit its crest.

There, there was nothing. Not a singular thought, not a thing to keep her mind busy. Only a singular moment where the world held still before she felt herself burst. Her cry came out mixed with pleasure and surprise as she unraveled and nearly fell down to the floor had Evony not caught her firmly with one arm around her waist, the other still very much stroking fingers inside of her.

Lauren’s forehead had dropped to the woman’s shoulder, her mouth agape in ragged breath as she became aware of the drenched material on her and realized the magnitude of the orgasm that had came.

Every breath tugged at muscles sore from exertion and weakly she did nothing more than a light struggle as Evony laughed against matted hair and the shell of her ear.

“If I new you were going to squirt so messily-“ Lauren grunted at the word, hating the ugly term, “-I would have removed your pants.”

“Screw you.”

“You will be. Tonight. My husband falls asleep around seven so I expect you to be all prettily tied up for me in the guest room by nine.”

There, Lauren lifted her head, aware that her mind formed no less than fifteen suggestion to what positions _tied up_ could mean in Evony’s guest room.

The question must have formed on her features, as Lauren felt the hand from between her legs and damply press over jaw in a light tough. Evony’s thumb, unsurprisingly wet, slipped over Lauren’s mouth and scraped the ejaculation over her chin. “I plan to put that mouth to good use, Doctor Lewis. Try not to use it too much in that meeting this evening.” Her eyes hovered daringly over Lauren’s before she dipped her mouth down to taste over the droplet left on Lauren’s lip.

There, in the kiss that lazily grew bolder, Lauren felt her mind became to pick at the importance of her surroundings, only choosing now to remember that she had promised herself very firmly to resist Evony’s seduction, and somehow had managed to forget when the Morrigan’s perfume washed over her – it was an expensive brand, but no more fae than the dress Evony had chosen to wear.

Remembering herself now, she struggled from the woman, falling back in a corner where the wall and her bench met appropriately in the room. Breathing heavily still, she stared at Evony before turning away, burring her own hand in her aware, unable to escape the very much so human scent of Evony now from every inch of her skin.

“Don’t pout, it’s getting tiresome.”

“Get out.”

“Fine, have it your way. But I expect you there by _no later_ than nine.” Lauren heard the rustle of Evony moving around her, smelt the perfume – both synthetic and biological – around her, before a kiss pressed to her cheek.

Lauren’s eyes moved then to stare at Evony leaving, her cheek burnt by the touch unfamiliar from the Morrigan. A softness that could still hold cruelty somewhere, but Lauren knew, deep down, the kiss meant to seal what Lauren knew. She’d be there by nine, freshly showered and laundered in new clothes, allowing herself the moment of addiction where she could forget that she otherwise engaged, balancing her _actual_ love life with work and the fae, not to mention police cases and the science experiments, research papers and the thousand and one other things that called to her mind always, always.

She didn’t want her thoughts to feel dulled to a singular point as they did with Bo. Rather, she wanted to forget, and Evony offered her that without so much as needing to ask.


End file.
